I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

"Rahh!" Reynold roared as he swung his sword in a final, decisive arc. The blade cleaved through his opponent's chest, sending the lan spoon crumpling to the ground. The defeated man groaned weakly before succumbing, lifeless in a spreading pool of his own blood.

Reynold exhaled heavily, wiping sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his tunic. His body ached, but there was no time for rest. Turning sharply, he surveyed the battlefield.

Behind him, Diana Rosenwald stood with her sword The lifeless forms of her enemies lay scattered at her feet. The last one had been struck squarely in the chest by one of Minerva's arrow.

"We did it…" Saya muttered, relieved. She sank to her knees, the exhaustion of battle catching up to her.

Lua and Mona joined her, exchanging nods of satisfaction. Not long ago, the thought of taking a human life had been almost unbearable for them. Yet now, after weeks of grueling battles, they had grown stronger—both in skill and in mentally.

"Where's King?" Reynold asked, scanning the area before focusing on a nearby tree.

The leaves rustled, and moments later, King emerged. He leapt down, gripping a struggling man by the scruff of his neck. The man's face was pale, his eyes darting frantically in search of escape.

"I'm finished here," King said. He tossed the man onto the ground without ceremony. The prisoner groaned, weak and terrified, as the group closed in around him.

"Are you one of Davon Crook's men?" Minerva asked first.

The captive knelt shakily, blood dribbling from his split lip. His eyes, however, glinted. When he spotted Minerva, a sneer twisted his face. "I might tell you…If you suck—"

-Spurt!

He didn't finish the sentence. King moved in a blur, a slim knife flashing in his hand. The blade plunged into the man's mouth, silencing him mid-word.

"Ughuarghhh!!!"

The man's scream of agony echoed throughout the area scaring even birds around.

The group froze, their eyes wide in shock. Reynold and the three younger women exchanged uncertain glances, struggling to process what they'd just witnessed.

King however remained impassive.

"A filthy tongue like that has no place here. My apologies if I acted rashly."

The man collapsed, clutching his ruined mouth, his muffled cries punctuated by sobs. King crouched, his blue eyes locking onto the prisoner's tear-filled gaze.

"You should show more respect when addressing a lady," King said, his tone devoid of emotion. He wiped the bloodied blade clean on the man's tattered clothing before standing and turning away.

Noticing Reynold and the others staring at him with dumbfounded expressions—and the others' glances of surprise—King raised a brow.

"What?" He asked innocently, his tone almost puzzled. "He doesn't need his tongue to show us the way, does he?"

His question was met with silence.

King blinked, genuinely unaware of why they seemed so taken aback.

Diana, however, seemed to approve. She wore a faint smirk, clearly unbothered by the loss of the foul tongue that had dared to try insulting her sister. The rest of the group, though, seemed more surprised, their surprise stemming not from disapproval but from the sheer ruthlessness King had displayed.

Still, no one voiced an objection.

Minerva exhaled softly, her gaze falling on the weeping prisoner. "Perhaps we could have gotten more information out of him if he still had his tongue," she said.

"There's no need to worry about that, Lady Minerva," King assured her. Without hesitation, he grasped the man by the hair, forcing his head up to meet his icy stare. "He can still nod his head, after all."

Turning his attention back to the captive, King spoke. "Is Davon Crook with his band of miscreants?"

The man, trembling and pale, nodded vigorously.

"How many are left with him?" King continued the questions. "There were nearly thirty of you here, and I doubt he sent all his forces to guard this pass. If I had to guess, you're part of half his men, at most. That would leave around thirty still with him, yes?"

The man's eyes widened, startled by King's deduction, but he nodded again in frantic agreement.

King's lips curled into a smirk. "Do you think you can take us to him?"

Without hesitation, the man nodded once more.

"Perfect," King replied, his smirk widening. He tilted the man's head briefly, inspecting him as though confirming his usefulness, before slapping the back of his head. "Lead the way."

The prisoner stumbled forward, clutching his bleeding mouth as he broke into a pained run.

"Reynold," King called over his shoulder. "Can you keep an eye on him? Just in case he tries something—or gets eaten by a monster along the way."

Reynold nodded seriously, stepping forward with Lua at his side. "I've got him," he assured King.

Satisfied, King turned to Minerva, his expression softening immediately, walking alongside her.

"I must apologize, Lady Minerva," King began sincerely. "That was an unpleasant scene. I hope it didn't disgust you."

Despite his mastery of killing and torturing, King prided himself on restraint in the presence of women—especially women like Minerva, whom he appreciated deeply.

Minerva looked at him. I'm fine," she replied, composed. "I thank you for coming to my defense though there was no need to go sthis far for a simple insult."

"Sometimes, Lady Minerva," King stared at her. "Harsh methods are necessary when dealing with the dregs of society. It makes them think twice—perhaps even thrice—before daring to act on their baser impulses again."

Minerva studied him intently, her discerning gaze attempting to understand the man before her.

Sensing the weight of her scrutiny, King quickly shifted back to his usual charming demeanor, a smile spreading across his face. "Besides, Lady Minerva, you're far too kind for your own good. Your compassion might one day be your undoing."

"Mister King," Minerva began after a brief pause, "you don't have to answer if it's too personal, but… are you truly just a Hunter?"

King let out a soft sigh at her persistence. "You're quite perceptive, Lady Minerva. Keen observation seems to be a skill you've mastered. But yes, before I became a Hunter, I worked privately for a certain organization. Unfortunately, I can't say more."

Minerva nodded thoughtfully, her suspicions seemingly confirmed. "That would explain your remarkable ability to anticipate and react to ambushes. It's not something most Hunters can claim mastery over."

King's lips curled into a sly smile. "You flatter me, Lady Minerva. Perhaps we could continue this conversation over dinner sometime? A setting more suited to such delightful discourse." Your journey continues on empire

"You're digressing, King," Diana shot him a glare.

She couldn't help but marvel at King's uncanny ability to steer any discussion toward himself. His smooth tongue was as much a weapon as any blade he wielded.

King turned to Diana, unperturbed by her glare. "Lady Diana, I was, of course, intending to invite you as well. No need to feel upset," he said with feigned innocence.

"I'm not upset about this!" Diana snapped

One of the bodyguards, observing the exchange, intervened. "Kid, for your own good, you should learn to hold your tongue," he said seriously.

"That would be difficult," King replied. "You see, I simply can't hold my tongue around beautiful women. It's entirely beyond my abilities."

The bodyguards exchanged grimaces but King's grin only widened.

The group continued their journey in relative silence until, after about twenty minutes, Reynold broke it with a shout. "Look!" He called, pointing toward a faint wisp of smoke curling into the sky. As they moved closer, they noticed several other smoke trails in the distance.

"This might be their encampment," Minerva said.

"Scouting the area first would be wise," Diana suggested, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the terrain.

"An excellent idea," King agreed smoothly. "Miss Saya and Miss Mona should handle the scouting."

The two younger women exchanged surprised glances, caught off guard by the sudden responsibility.

"I'll go with them," Reynold volunteered quickly.

But King raised a hand, shaking his head. "Reynold Lightbringer. As the leader of your party, you must allow your team members to grow. If you always shield them, they'll never learn to stand on their own. One day, they might find themselves alone and helpless without you. Better to ensure they can handle challenges like this now."

"B-But…" Reynold trailed off, his worry etched clearly across his face. He glanced at Saya and Mona, hesitation holding him back from giving the order.

King tilted his head slightly. "It's just scouting. Surely, the lovers of the future S-rank Hunter Reynold Lightbringer can handle a task as simple as this?"

Mona's grip on her staff tightened as she glanced at Saya. They both nodded at each other.

"We can do it," Saya said.

"Saya…" Reynold seemed still worried.

"Don't worry," Saya interrupted, meeting his gaze with a serious expression. "We'll be back before you know it."

"Yes, it's just scouting," Mona added.

Reynold hesitated but finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. Without another word, Saya and Mona turned and left.

King, seemingly satisfied, settled himself on the ground. He leaned casually against the trunk of a tree, letting out a loud yawn. "You should rest, everyone."

The group exchanged uncertain glances but eventually followed suit, settling down in varying states of unease. The minutes ticked by in silence, broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves or distant chirping of birds.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.

Half an hour slipped by.

Saya and Mona had not returned.